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Her gaze wandered from Davis's toned backside, to his desk against the wall. That was when she noticed the various items laid out atop it. Danielle selected a small flog from the surface of Davis's desk, fingering the leathery cords on it, wrapping her hand around the handle until she felt like it belonged there. She approached him from behind, and she brushed her hand down his back and along the tight musculature of his ass, smacking him swiftly. Then she traced the along his shoulders, moving down his back.
"Your body is mine," she began, falling into a trance in which she felt her power was boundless, her sexuality and confidence smoldering. "You are my slave, and I am going to teach you to suffer for me." Danielle didn't know where this dialogue was coming from, but even saying those words to him aroused her even more.
~~~~~
"I am your slave, Mistress," Davis replied, the thought of being under Danielle's control making his cock twitch. He had hoped for such a seamless transition between their usual roles, and such a positive and willing reaction from her when she walked in and saw him all tied up, waiting for her. Davis had never felt comfortable enough with a woman to put himself in such a submissive position, and hadn't known at all what to expect from Danielle. When he'd pictured her torturing him, she'd been all too believable a Mistress. Who better than her to act out his fantasy, to reverse the relationship of power between them?
The blindfold was making him insane and was more torturous than having his hands bound. Davis could hear her soft footfalls on the thick carpeting, and could place her position near him. But he couldn't predict her blows with the flog, and the unexpectedness aroused him almost as much as her proximity.
Danielle was hitting him only gently, undoubtedly waiting to verify his pain threshold before moving on to swifter punishment. She flogged his backside, making him part his legs further to access his tender inner thighs. Davis flinched at the stinging pain and invited it, unable to hold back his moan. He felt her run the flog along the length of his hardness, down to his balls, lifting them, the cool leather welcoming.
"Do you want to please me, slave?" Danielle asked him, her seductive voice taking on an aggressive quality. Davis sucked in a startled breath as her small fingers reached out suddenly and pinched both of his nipples, hard enough to make him cry out, the warmth stirring in his loins.
"It pleases me to suffer for you, Mistress," Davis murmured in deference to her power.
"I can't hear you," Danielle teased, her words followed by her hand wrapping around his shaft, tugging roughly, squeezing the head of his cock, and rubbing the tip of it with a few drops of his precum. Automatically, Davis's hips moved closer to her, but then she released him.
"Please punish me, Mistress," Davis groaned, enduring a slightly sharper blow to his already sore buttocks. He couldn't believe how sensitive and receptive his body was to her flogging. More importantly, he was shocked at how the few words they had spoken evoked such a visceral and psychological response from him. The simplicity of being told to suffer, being called her slave, and labeling Danielle his Mistress compounded the intensity of his situation.
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